The police could scarcely believe that they were seeing us twice in one day.
Bastard Number One stole Sarah´s bag from off the seat in the bus, right beside me, whilst she used the toilet and some guy distracted me through the window. A bumpy night through the desert had me exhausted and dopey. I didn´t even know the bag was on the seat, I thought it was still stashed underneath with mine.
Cue horror.
As awful panic set in, other folk from the bus appeared. Three men had gotten on and grabbed everything they could as people lay in their post-journey haze. A gang of thieves.
We walked to the nearest Carabinere station, three blocks away. They were as helpful as any police can be when its petty theft from tourists. One long report later and we were done, whisked away by two guys who were decent enough to drive us all over town to get new insulin and diabetic supplies for Sarah. A fair whack of cash was handed out. Being diabetic isn´t cheap, apparently.
They dropped us back at the bus station. Sarah´s new glucometer has a finger-pricking device with it which doesnt work. We have three hours til our bus. Might as well head back to the pharmacy where we bought it and get it changed for a new one, it cost enough.
Bastard Number Two switched my bag for his whilst we stood at the counter in the pharmacy. The bag was at my feet, only not on my back because we had our rucksacks with us.
Cue further horror.
A period of freaking out occured. The police eventually appear and take us to the station. I don´t think anyone really believes we are back here, least of all us.
Another report. Another outrageous list that beggars belief it could all be kept in one bag.
Bye bye photos of the last twelve weeks. Bye bye songs that I was working on in Garageband. Bye bye laptops and cameras and MP3 players and headphones and e-readers and more cameras and USB cables and international plug adaptors and battery chargers and mobile phones and passports and sun cream and moisturiser and water bottles and chillis and peppers and so many litle Micro SD cards. Bye bye bank cards and identification and medical documents and notebooks and diaries and gifts and pruck.
Hello Insurance Chaos.
Hello unconditional support from everyone.
Hello night in horrid borstal hotel and 22 hour bus journey back to Santiago.
Hello that feeling in the pit of my stomach. Ah loss. I remember thee from Portugal, when that Russian whore stole my camera out of my pocket and I lost a weeks worth of photos.
Hello rage, every time someone stands too close to us on the metro or bumps us on the street. Hello intense paranoia. Hello Centros De Llamadas. You will take all our money soon.
LESSONS LEARNED:
1) That Avatar and The Notebook are much better movies in Spanish than in English.
2) That scams really are sophisticated and these bastards know what they are doing.
3) You cannot be too paranoid. I have wished many times over the last few days that I had bought that tazer in Asuncion. I know I didn´t see anyone take anything, and it would have been useless, but still. I would have liked the chance.
4) I have also learned that I don´t actually have many clothes any more, and I need to head to some 2nd hand shops to get some supplies :)
5) Your bag in the hold of the bus is probably safer than the small bag you take onto the bus cabin. Any bastard can get onto the bus without a ticket. But NO ONE is getting a bag from the hold without their little confirmation ticket.
More updates in the future. For now, we are back in Santiago de Chile and the British Embassy has been excellent. We might even be back on track with our itinerary (almost). But thats another story.
#thanks everyone#
Bastard Number One stole Sarah´s bag from off the seat in the bus, right beside me, whilst she used the toilet and some guy distracted me through the window. A bumpy night through the desert had me exhausted and dopey. I didn´t even know the bag was on the seat, I thought it was still stashed underneath with mine.
Cue horror.
As awful panic set in, other folk from the bus appeared. Three men had gotten on and grabbed everything they could as people lay in their post-journey haze. A gang of thieves.
We walked to the nearest Carabinere station, three blocks away. They were as helpful as any police can be when its petty theft from tourists. One long report later and we were done, whisked away by two guys who were decent enough to drive us all over town to get new insulin and diabetic supplies for Sarah. A fair whack of cash was handed out. Being diabetic isn´t cheap, apparently.
They dropped us back at the bus station. Sarah´s new glucometer has a finger-pricking device with it which doesnt work. We have three hours til our bus. Might as well head back to the pharmacy where we bought it and get it changed for a new one, it cost enough.
Bastard Number Two switched my bag for his whilst we stood at the counter in the pharmacy. The bag was at my feet, only not on my back because we had our rucksacks with us.
Cue further horror.
A period of freaking out occured. The police eventually appear and take us to the station. I don´t think anyone really believes we are back here, least of all us.
Another report. Another outrageous list that beggars belief it could all be kept in one bag.
Bye bye photos of the last twelve weeks. Bye bye songs that I was working on in Garageband. Bye bye laptops and cameras and MP3 players and headphones and e-readers and more cameras and USB cables and international plug adaptors and battery chargers and mobile phones and passports and sun cream and moisturiser and water bottles and chillis and peppers and so many litle Micro SD cards. Bye bye bank cards and identification and medical documents and notebooks and diaries and gifts and pruck.
Hello Insurance Chaos.
Hello unconditional support from everyone.
Hello night in horrid borstal hotel and 22 hour bus journey back to Santiago.
Hello that feeling in the pit of my stomach. Ah loss. I remember thee from Portugal, when that Russian whore stole my camera out of my pocket and I lost a weeks worth of photos.
Hello rage, every time someone stands too close to us on the metro or bumps us on the street. Hello intense paranoia. Hello Centros De Llamadas. You will take all our money soon.
LESSONS LEARNED:
1) That Avatar and The Notebook are much better movies in Spanish than in English.
2) That scams really are sophisticated and these bastards know what they are doing.
3) You cannot be too paranoid. I have wished many times over the last few days that I had bought that tazer in Asuncion. I know I didn´t see anyone take anything, and it would have been useless, but still. I would have liked the chance.
4) I have also learned that I don´t actually have many clothes any more, and I need to head to some 2nd hand shops to get some supplies :)
5) Your bag in the hold of the bus is probably safer than the small bag you take onto the bus cabin. Any bastard can get onto the bus without a ticket. But NO ONE is getting a bag from the hold without their little confirmation ticket.
More updates in the future. For now, we are back in Santiago de Chile and the British Embassy has been excellent. We might even be back on track with our itinerary (almost). But thats another story.
#thanks everyone#
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